Just A Little Push
by TheMaroonMaid
Summary: When 12 year old Halley Holmes' parents are killed in a car crash, Sherlock rushes to her aid for the first time since she was a toddler. Though he won't admit it, he all but demanded that Mycroft get the papers to put her in his care. (SUCK AT SUMMARIES. LOTS OF FLUFF/ SO MUCH JOHNLOCK AND MYSTRADE(M for future content ;3)) Sherlock's parents are Violet and Gregory in this fic :)
1. Chapter 1

The morning had begun as it usually would, Sherlock dragging himself out of bed at a late hour after sleeping in, John making himself and the Holmes boy a cuppa before relaxing back in his chair with the paper. Sherlock's curls were unkempt and he dropped himself onto the couch, his eyes immediately shutting again as he sipped his tea.

The case they had most recently been on kept them up for a day short of two weeks, and Sherlock's inevitable crash was no surprise to John. Today would be filled with sleeping, relaxing, eating, and comfortable quiet. John, luckily, had the day off from work and was happy to spend the day doing nothing productive.

Ity was only around ten minutes after Sherlock had gotten up that his phone rang. John and Sherlock shared a look- it had to be important for a call. Sherlock blew out an irritated breath, making John roll his eyes as he stood and went to locate the phone and hand it over to Sherlock. Sherlock's narrowed eyes glanced at the screen before he answered the call, his mood swiftly going sour- John could only assume it was Mycroft.

"What is it?" Sherlock huffed.

John couldn't hear the reply, but watched Sherlock's face to try and figure out what was being said. Sherlock was silent for a while and, to John's surprise, seemed tense while his scowl slowly dissipated into a glazed-over stare.

"Sherlock?" Came the doctor's soft tone, hoping to get word of what was happening.

"When?" Was the abrupt reply Sherlock gave into the phone, waving John up out of his chair while he stood himself, rushing off to his room to presumably get dressed.

As the door slammed, John heard no more replies from Sherlock and he busied himself with finishing his tea, trying to decipher what was going on. Sherlock wouldn't have reacted like that to a case, no, and it was rather obvious that Mycroft wanted them somewhere- but what could cause Sherlock to, dare he say, _panic_ like that? Sherlock emerged from his room five minutes later, his hair now brushed and styled like usual, dressed in his normal suit, a solemn look on his face as he donned his coat and scarf.

"Come on, John. Hurry up." He hissed, and John told himself he imagined the anxious undertone of Sherlock's words.

But, John obeyed and pulled on his own coat and followed Sherlock downstairs to the black car that Mycroft had very obviously sent. Wordlessly Sherlock climbed in, expecting John to follow.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?" His voice was cautious but concerned as John watched Sherlock bounce his knee in the car.

"Hm? Yes, yes, fine." He mumbled, eyes very deliberately turned out the window.

John let it go, but didn't miss Sherlock's fists, curled so tight his knuckles were white.

When they arrived, Mycroft was standing outside, a cigarette between his lips. As John stepped out, he took a long drag before dropping it and putting it out with the toe of his shoe.

"Doctor Watson, Sher-" He began calmly, but Sherlock was already stepping past him, walking to the door and slamming it shut behind him.

"He's been in a right foul mood since you called, Mycroft." John commented as he walked up,"What's going on? He hasn't breathed a word to me."

Mycroft managed a fake, apologetic smile,"I can only imagine he's been...upset, for lack of a better word."

John walked beside him as they went to the door,"Why, exactly?"

Mycroft was quiet a moment,"My brother had very few friends as a child, Doctor, and I'm sure you can imagine why."

"Doesn't mean it's not a right stupid reason." John sighed, his tone serious.

"I agree. But in any case, he spent most of his adolescent years with his cousin , who is close to 10 years younger than him. He first made her acquaintance when he was 19, at the christmas party. At the time, she was only just 1 year old, and after he coddled her all night- oh, please don't give me that look, Watson, Sherlock simply adored her for good reason. She could listen to him attentively and not once when he held her did she cry. But, when the girl's mother denied him access to her for fear he would...' _rub off on her'_ , Sherlock promptly moved out- Not to soon after he went back to drugs." Mycroft explained.

John simply nodded,"Yeah, I think I can understand. Go on."

Mycroft paused as they reached the door, his hand resting on the door handle. He turned to John,"Well, currently, she is 12 years of age. This morning, her parents were in a crash and...well…"

John nodded solemnly,"Is she alright?"

Mycroft nodded,"Thank god. But she is very distressed. Her parents were killed on impact."

John rubbed a hand down his face, taking a breath,"Yeah, alright. Sorry for your loss, I suppose. How's Violet?"

Mycroft pushed the door open and led John inside the large house once more,"She's alright- they didn't have much contact after..."

John didn't hear the rest of what Mycroft said, because it was there, in the middle of the room, that Sherlock Holmes sat on the floor, a girl in jeans and a grey jumper curled up in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

John realized, after a few moments, that he was staring and quickly turned his eyes to Mycroft again, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, as if he had intruded on something. Mycroft didn't seem bothered, but concern was hidden behind his calm gaze.

The soft sobs that came from the pair on the floor were nothing less than heart-wrenching, and as John looked back at them, he saw that Halley's hands weren't the only ones shaking. Sherlock's voice was very, very quiet, but his low tone made it evident that he was reassuring her with whatever words he could manage to say.

"Come, Doctor." Mycroft's voice cut in,"I'm sure my brother would rather we give him a moment."

John nodded numbly, following Mycroft to the kitchen, where Sherlock's Mother and Father sat talking quietly. At their entrance, his mother stood with a fond smile.

"Ah, John, is Sherlock with Halley then?" She began, addressing the question to Mycroft.

The elder Holmes brother nodded, his hands clasped behind his back, chin tilted up just enough to be recognized. John glanced at the doors.

"How long has it been? You know, for the two of them?" He asked curiously.

Violet smiled softly,"Almost eight years now, I believe."

John nodded and opened his mouth to say something else when he heard footsteps padding in behind him. He stepped out of the way and turned his upper half to see a red- faced Halley stepping into the kitchen, followed by a stone-faced Sherlock. John didn't comment on Sherlock's hand on her back as they walked in.

Halley gazed at John for a moment before she sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. Shaky hands smoothed her shirt before she held out a hand to him.

"Hi, John. Lovely to meet you." She mumbled, her shoulders uncomfortably straight and she seemed to struggle to look him in the eye.

The sight was upsetting at best, and it made something in John's chest twist painfully. He shook his head and brushed her hand aside gently, instead putting a hand on her shoulder.

"We'll get to that later, Halley. You should drink some water, you look too pale." He prompted her.

She agreed, her shoulders slowly relaxing in resignation. Now her eyes seemed to study his face and John was left almost speechless at how similar her eyes shifted and darted about when she...deduced someone? It wasn't a second later that her face was pressed into his shoulder, her arms thrown hastily around his shoulders. John was struck dumb for a moment at the sudden contact, before he returned the hug gently.

John ushered her to the sink a moment or so later, to get her something to drink, having Violet follow to fuss over them both. Sherlock ran a hand through his curls, casting one unreadable look at Halley before taking a seat, leaning back in his chair.

"Where is she going?" His low voice left no room for small talk as he eyed Mycroft.

"Most likely to a children's home. There's not much of a choice as to-" Mycroft began to explain, only to be cut off by a seething look from Sherlock.

"Can she not just stay here?" he hissed,"She won't step foot in one of those hell holes."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow,"I'm sorry to inform you, Sherlock, but Mummy and Father here already dealt with us, they have no obligations to take her in. I will look for the most comfortable, high-rated orphanage in the area, I assure you, brother mine."

"No." Sherlock shook his head, and in the moment, Mycroft remembered a rather stubborn 7 year old many, many years ago.

"Sherlock, there aren't any other people who would want to take her in. That's her best chance." Mycroft sighed,"I hate it as much as you do."

Sherlock would swear up and down that he, in fact, did _not_ pout then, as he glanced back at John and Halley. Watson had managed to bring a soft smile to her face, and even if it were weak, it was genuine. Sherlock took a breath, then decidedly turned back to Mycroft.

"She'll stay with us. Myself and John."

Mycroft's brow drew together in a scowl,"Sherlock, you can't possibly begin to understand what you're trying to do. She's a girl, Sherlock, a pre-pubescent one at that."

Sherlock stood up with a sneer,"I am completely aware of what I am proposing, Mycroft. Get me the blasted papers so we can get her moved in."

"Sherlock, I ask you to reconsider-" Mycroft tried again.

"I have nothing to reconsider. John seems to adore her, Mrs Hudson will have someone worth worrying over. We have plenty of space should One of them move into the empty flat upstairs. I'm sure it will be far more comfortable than any children's home." Sherlock snapped, and before Mycroft could argue, stormed out of the kitchen to the sitting room.

Mycroft let out a slow breath in hopes to calm himself.


	3. Chapter 3

It was an hour or so before Sherlock said anything about it. They were all lounging in the living room, Violet and Gregory focused on making that smile return to Halley's face, John watching with a pleased expression. Sherlock sat silently on the side, Mycroft busy doing what he needed. When the Elder Holmes returned with papers in hand, he cleared his throat, pointing a look at Sherlock while also attracting everyone else's attention.

"Mycroft?" Halley questioned, glancing between the two brothers as she paused in sipping her glass of water.

"Halley, Sherlock has an interesting arrangement in mind." Mycroft sighed, handing Sherlock the papers with an exasperated air.

Sherlock grinned for a short moment before he stood, ignoring John's questioning glance.

"With your parents gone, you cannot stay at your previous home for obvious reasons. With no one else willing to take you in, I've taken it upon myself to put you in the care of myself and John at 221B." Sherlock smiled very faintly throughout this, feeling oh so confident about this.

John, however, sat in surprise,"Sherlock? Are you serious about this? We don't...How could we possibly…"

Sherlock promptly waved him off,"No, no, John it's fine, don't worry about it. I have everything figured out."

"Yeah, yeah, of course you do. You're Sherlock Holmes. But did you consider what Halley might think?" John countered, peering up at him suspiciously.

"She'd love it, of course." Sherlock huffed,"Why wouldn't she?"

"I'm right here, Sherlock." Came Halley's quiet, tired voice from the couch.

Now Halley was standing, her arms crossed, her brow pulled together in a frown as she looked up at Sherlock.

"Why haven't you just asked me yet? I don't want to be thrown about like some silly barbie doll." She sighed, shifting her weight a bit,"The car did that enough already."

Before John's eyes, Sherlock seemed to deflate, even if just a fraction. His eyes were stuck on her now, curiously, and he too shifted. Halley shook her head.

"No, don't you look at me like that. You know this wouldn't have been brought up had you just sucked it up and asked me." She seemed to chide him as she stepped around the table to his side, but looking at Mycroft and John,"I don't have much of a choice where I go, do I?"

Mycroft shook his head solemnly,"I'm afraid not,"

Halley pursed her lips to a tight line before pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes, taking a deep breath. Sherlock made no attempt to reassure her physically. After a moment, Halley dropped her arms to the sides once more, seemingly calmed again,

"Halley, love, I'm sure Myc could find a nice home if you don't want to stay with Sherlock." Gregory pointed out, sharing a look with Mycroft.

"I don't want to end up in one of those. The high ratings are for how well they hide their slip-ups." She huffed, reminding John once more of how similar she and Sherlock were.

Halley once again cast a glance back at Sherlock, who in turn raised his chin a fraction in acknowledgement. She seemed to think for a moment, and she shared looks with John and Mycroft before settling on John. To John's surprise, she smiled slightly, even if sadly, as she crossed her arms once more.

"I suppose I haven't another choice, do I?" She said in a lighter tone, but it only seemed to dampen the already upsetting atmosphere.

Sherlock tapped her shoulder with the edge of the paper, giving them up when she took them to read them over. After a beat, she smiled again, gazing at the papers in her hand.

"I guess I'll be having two dads then, huh?" She commented innocently, sitting down on the floor with her back pressed against the couch.

While Sherlock arched an eyebrow at the statement, John stammered to try and correct her,"No, no, Sherlock is your caretaker. You're just stuck with me- We aren't anything but flatmates."

"Really?" Came her reply, her head turned to John, but her eyes flickered to Sherlock.

It seemed the two had a Holmes moment when they shared a look, making Halley roll her eyes before looking back to the papers.

"Fine fine; one dad, one tag along." She sighed, then added for her ears alone,"For now."


	4. Chapter 4

Things moved rather quickly after that. Mycroft got the documents filled out, adoption papers, medical things. Halley had few possessions at home that she wanted to keep, her clothes, notebooks, makeup, and football were the items Sherlock focused most on. Halley did move upstairs to her own flat without much argument- with Sherlock's experiments hanging around, it was probably the best idea. In any case, she could come down to the main flat whenever she felt like.

Sherlock hefted the last box up the stairs, filled once more with clothes, and dropped it on the bed in Halley's bedroom. He turned back to find Halley standing in the middle of the living room, looking around. Before he could speak, she cast him a curious glance over her shoulder.

"Can we paint sometime?" She asked hopefully.

"Possibly. Say the colors you like out loud now, I'm almost certain Mycroft will send in goons to get it done before tomorrow." Sherlock mumbled wryly, walking out to the main room with her.

Halley laughed quietly at that,"Mycroft can't be that bad. He's really sweet, Sherly."

Sherlock shot her an incredulous look,"Those words don't belong in the same sentence."

Halley shook her head, but her fond smile was still there,"Okay, okay. I need to start unpacking- go find John." She prompted, turning to go to her bedroom.

"What am I supposed to do with John?" He huffed, looking back at her.

"Oh, I'm sure you have plenty of ideas." Halley grinned, shutting the door.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the closed door, then turned to face the TV sitting in front of him. After a moment, he shook his head in an attempt to clear it, sighed, and went downstairs to his own flat.

John was there, sitting in his chair and typing on his laptop. He had a cup of tea beside him, made ten minutes ago. He regarded Sherlock with a curious look over his shoulder before turning back to his computer.

"Hows Halley doing?" He hummed.

Sherlock was quiet a beat before he swiveled to head for the couch,"Fine."


	5. Chapter 5

That evening, Mrs Hudson brought up takeout for the boys and Halley, to celebrate she said. John insisted he pay her back, and Sherlock sensed Halley was itching to repay her as well.

Sherlock, of course, had noticed that while she was born as a Holmes, she had many qualities of John. Selflessness, courageous, very willing to stand up for her beliefs. Sherlock also noted that those were his most adored traits of John. They were complete opposites, but the saying is opposites attract, isn't it?

Halley spoke up after John's second attempt to repay Mrs Hudson.

"I was actually craving something sweet. I thought I'd make pancakes tomorrow, if you'd want to join us for breakfast?" She opted, currently curled up in Sherlock's chair, eating some dish with fried rice, her long brown curls ties up in a messy bun.

Mrs Hudson smiled at her, clasping her hands together in front of her,"You cook? Oh, good, maybe you can get these two fattened up a bit." She giggled.

Halley smiled as Sherlock scoffed,"You'll be coming then?"

She nodded,"Sure, deary."

With that, she left, and Halley hummed as she took another bite.

"Sherlock won't eat anything when he's on a case." John pointed out,"Don't feel bad if he turns up his nose at pancakes."

Sherlock scowled from the couch, still picking at his own dinner. Halley turned her gaze to Sherlock.

"He'll eat one way or another. Skipping meals isn't alright, Sherly." She chided him with a huff.

Sherlock rolled his eyes,"My body is merely a transport." He explained.

"Transports need food. Otherwise the engine doesn't work right." Halley pointed to Sherlock, vaguely gesturing at his head.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more and reluctantly ate a quarter of his takeaway before slipping into his mind palace.


	6. Chapter 6

It was John who stumbled in upon Halley's sleeping form, clutching a blanket, tucked into Sherlock's chair. The credits to some movie were playing and Halley's cheeks were stained with tears. John's own hands twitched as he fought himself to check his own face for tears.

He had been torn from sleep by yet another nightmare. This one was terrifyingly vivid, and he had stayed in his bed shaking for close to ten minutes before he decided to head downstairs and get something to drink before going back to bed. Sherlock, in this one, had jumped in front of the bullet that had been aimed at him rather than jump off the building. Sherlock's limp form had collapsed on top of John, making his knee flare in pain as he attempted to support him.

John now shifted on his slightly aching knee, wondering what to do with Halley. He couldn't possibly just let her sleep there, Sherlock would be in a mood the next morning if he came out to Halley sleeping in his chair. No, he figured he had best get her back upstairs.

Drink forgotten, He fixed the blanket on top of her and carefully picked her up. To his surprise, she was just a bit heavier than he previously thought. Luckily, though, nothing he couldn't handle. He adjusted her to get a good hold, then turned to go up to her room. It was Sherlock in the kitchen entry way that stopped him.

The younger man leaned against the door frame, eyes trained on John's as he paused. Sherlock must have gotten up when he heard John start upstairs. Sherlock didn't really even glance at Halley, just took in both of them before settling on John. The doctor struggled not to squirm under his intense gaze. His eyes held more than just the usual searching look, though. His eyes seemed softer now as he watched them.

Watson offered little more than a faint shrug as he went to the door and carried her upstairs to her room.

The next morning, Halley came downstairs to the smell of tea and the sound of John typing away on his laptop. She yawned, dressed in a brown tank top and plaid pajama pants. John looked up at her quizzically.

"Sleep well?" He asked.

She shrugged, rubbing her eyes from sleep,"S'pose so."

With that, she wandered into the kitchen to start some more tea and get a jump on pancakes. John continued with what he was doing, paying her no mind.

It was a loud thump and the slamming of the fridge door that startled him.

"Why the bloody hell are there fingers in the fridge?" She shrieked, storming back out to the living room.

"Don't touch them!" Came Sherlock's immediate reply from his bedroom.

A moment later the door opened quickly to reveal Sherlock in his usual morning attire with his sweat pants, grey shirt, and blue dressing gown. He rushed into the kitchen and straight to the fridge to be sure his experiment hadn't been ruined.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes, get those things out of the fridge! There are such things as germs you know! How long have they been in there?" She barked, surprising John and Sherlock alike.

Sherlock ducked his head at the use of his full name, but quickly masked his surprise with a look of disinterest. He rounded to go back out to the main room.

"It's fine, just leave them alone." He huffed.

"Halley, he does this all the time, it's-"

"I don't very well care what it is! Why are there fingers in the fridge?" Halley demanded, grabbing Sherlock's dressing gown to get his attention.

He quickly turned to knock her hand away with a scowl,"I'm studying the decay rate of blood cells at different temperatures."

Halley's mouth hung open for a moment. She shook her head,"Fine, fine. I'll cook upstairs, then."She paused to poke a finger at his chest,"And you, sir, will be eating at least some toast, yeah?"

Sherlock huffed and stalked off to the couch, sulking. John sighed- this was just fantastic. Sherlock was in a mood already and he'd just gotten up.


	7. Chapter 7

Halley spent the next twenty minutes moving things around in the fridge and bickering with Sherlock as he criticized. It was a quarter to ten before she had batter poured into a pan, humming a song she knew as she cooked. She made eggs and tea to go along with breakfast. Mrs Hudson came up a bit after that, and they all sat in respective spots in the main room. Sherlock's things still littered the kitchen table.

Halley sat on one end of the couch, Mrs Hudson on the other, Sherlock and John in each of their chairs. Halley paid no mind as Sherlock poked at his food, busy texting Lestrade to bug him for cases.

"Do you sew?" Mrs Hudson asked curiously as she sipped her tea.

"Mm?" Halley managed, her mouth full of pancakes. She swallowed and giggled softly, shaking her head,"No, but I make bracelets on occasion. With string, you know?"

Mrs Hudson smiled and nodded,"Oh, yes, those friendship bracelets from primary; I made those all the time."

Halley nodded thoughtfully,"Haven't made any in a while though. Got caught up in sports, didn't have time to get anymore thread." She shrugged, standing to take her plate and Mrs Hudson's to the kitchen.

As she came back to take Johns plate, which he thanked her for, Mrs Hudson stood.

"Well, Halley, I was planning to go to the shops today if you'd like to come with me? We could get you some more thread and you could make me a bracelet or two sometime."

Halley's smile grew,"Really? I'd love to. I'll go change real quick, okay?"

Sherlock looked up then, having been pulled out of his mind palace,"Why do you need to change?"

Halley's shoulder slumped as she looked at him,"Seriously?"

John grinned, standing up himself,"He does that sometimes. Goes to his mind palace- totally spaces out. Sherlock, you've got a little…"

John gestured to Sherlock's torso, on which his shirt had syrup pooling into his lap. The detective stood up hastily, grabbing the plate and holding it away from himself. Sherlock scowled at his shirt before slamming the plate down on the table and stomping off to the bathroom to shower.

Halley huffed before offering her hand to Mrs Hudson,"C'mon, help me pick out something to wear. He can throw his tantrum without an audience, I'm sure."

Mrs Hudson laughed as she took her hand,"That's a new way to put it."

Halley headed upstairs with Mrs Hudson behind her and shut the door behind the two of them. She headed straight for her bedroom, waving Mrs Hudson in as she dug through her closet.

Mrs Hudson helped her pick out a knee-length sundress with a red flower by the left shoulder, thin spirals of black and white moving outward. Halley insisted on wearing black jeans underneath it, and a light jacket on top.

After that, they headed out and left Sherlock and John alone.

Sherlock returned to the main room, now dressed in his purple button up and black dress pants. He rolled up his sleeves, paused standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Halley's left then." He pointed out.

John nodded mutely, busy with the dishes currently piling up in the sink. He set the last plate on the towel beside the sink and dried his hands before he turned to see Sherlock, one hand on his hip, the other texting again.

John licked his lips at the sight, the shirt already enough to spark rather unbecoming thoughts. He let out a slow breath as he set down the towel, headed past Sherlock to the main room.

"Your knee is troubling you." Claimed Sherlock as the doctor passed.

It was enough to get a smile out of John,"Yeah. Little bit; I'll be alright."

Sherlock merely hummed in reply and lingered in the kitchen texting a while longer before he set to work on one of his experiments and leave John in quiet for the next hour or so. It was then that Sherlock's mobile went off, getting a look from John as the detective read it over.

The grin that split his face made it painfully obvious what was next. And without fail, the next seven words out of Sherlock's mouth were-

"Hurry up, John, Lestrade has a case!"

And they were off.


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock threw open the door to the building, ranting to himself. Something about Anderson and Sally. John heard the word 'ignorant' thrown around a few times.

In any case, Sherlock headed up to the flat with John in tow behind him, and the doctor had to force himself to wonder about Mrs Hudson and Halley. Sherlock was headed up the stairs rather hurriedly and his trousers seemed to fit him a bit too well. His sleeves were still rolled up and he looked rather windswept after running about the scene, his hair just a bit messy to make him even more- damn it.

John bit back the aggravated groan at his thoughts as they finally reached 221B. Sherlock pushed open the door, and there was Halley sitting on the floor, long strands of about five or so colors of thread in her hand as she went about making bracelets. Her head jerked up upon their entering, obviously not sure who it would have been. She seemed disappointed for a fleeting second before she smiled at them.

"Hey." She beamed,"Look! I got some thread."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and went into the kitchen to get on with his experiments. Halley huffed.

"Is he still sulking?" She speculated, narrowing her eyes at the kitchen entry way.

John sighed, nodding,"Donovan didn't have her coffee this morning. She was extra snippy."

"She did have coffee, John, it wasn't caffeinated!" Sherlock declared from the kitchen.

"Right, right." He chuckled, taking off his coat.

John turned back around at the thump behind him, only to see Halley's head dropped to the floor, bent over as she groaned.

"What? What's wrong?" John asked hurriedly, worry covering his expression.

Halley paused before she shook her head against the wood,"I can't quite remember how to do this. 'S bugging me."

John smiled,"Oh. Well, I'm sure you'll get it soon enough." He grabbed his laptop, closing it and turning to head up to his room.

Once he was gone, Sherlock voice came from the kitchen,"Liar."

"Sorry, just realized how oblivious some people can be." Halley quipped, now flawlessly continuing the bracelet. Knot, slide, knot, slide, knot…

"You really should just get on with it, Sherly. It is rather obvious you like him." She proclaimed, fingers still moving without pause.

Sherlock's head now poked out of the kitchen with a glare,"Shut up before he comes back."

"Thanks to you, we shouldn't be back for a while." She replied in a sing-song tone, her expression blank, giving nothing away to her meaning.

Sherlock scowled and ducked back into the kitchen to busy himself.

Halley simply grinned as she heard the upstairs door click shut.


	9. Chapter 9

Things fell into routine soon enough. Halley was sent to a Junior high school nearer the apartment, under Mycroft's supervision. She made breakfast for herself and John in the mornings, and an extra biscuit was left out for Sherlock on mornings with a case, a full, healthy breakfast should he wake up after solving one. She learned to live with the experiments, but refused to allow any disembodied body parts in her room.

Halley also took the liberty of filling her own fridge with foods, should John forget to go to the shops or if she felt like cooking upstairs. John always took the time to compliment her on her cooking, while Sherlock simply eyes it with distaste or greedily ate. She didn't really expect much more.

Mrs. Hudson also became a frequent guest for Halley. They spent hours talking, baking, making bracelets. Halley loved her company, mostly because she had at least a basic intellect so she could discuss with her rather than just chit chat. She did chide Halley every now and then to clean up, because Halley wasn't very neat.

The transition from school to school was smooth, since Halley was only a month into the school year previously. She still had her bad days, ones where she'd wake up after a nightmare about her mother, or when something would remind her of her parents at school. Those days she shut herself up in her room with a few comedic movies and shows, drinking hot cocoa.

Even so, Sherlock didn't meddle with her life, didn't question a lot of things. She supposed that would be a good thing if...if he cared about at least the things she did right.

Even after her third attempt, he brushed her off when she asked what his favorite colors were. Halley decided to leave it be, maybe a bracelet wouldn't suit him after all. Instead, she kept an eye on John, how he acted around Sherlock.

It was close to three months into her living with them that Sherlock allowed her to come to a crime scene. It was gruesome, yes, but Halley wasn't focused on that. Instead, her eyes were trained on Sherlock and John.

Sherlock would go dancing about the crime scene while he searched for clues, deducted things, made conclusions- all the while speaking to John as he thought. John, however, stayed silent and still on the side, watching Sherlock's every move.

Happy, amused, fond, interested~ Halley's smile grew as she deduced. It wasn't much, but she had known anyways. Maybe just a little bit more time and they-

It was Sherlock's question that drew her back.

"John, what do you think?" It was a quick, demanding question, but Halley had a feeling it was a special one. Sherlock didn't have the patience to listen to anyone else's opinion.

"Hm? Oh." John stepped up, kneeling beside the body. After a pause, he frowned,"It looks like there was something here," He gestured over the neck,"He was choked by something rough."

Halley turned her eyes to the older Holmes now, seeing his reaction.

Proud~ It was the one emotion that seemed important- relevant to John. If she needed any more proof before, she had it now. And so Sherlock went back to rambling, talking about suspects, commenting on the lead officer's intelligence, etc.

Nearly forty-five minutes passed before the were headed home, John busy taking a call from Harry behind them, and Halley took the momentary break to nudge Sherlock with her elbow.

"Casual touching is key, Sherlock." She said, matter-of-factly.

Sherlock gave her an incredulous look,"Excuse me?"

Halley snickered behind her hand,"God, you're clueless sometimes. Just casual, like, when you're reading over what he's written, put a hand on his shoulder. Whenever you go to a door, let him pass and put a hand on his back. Something, Sherly."

Sherlock huffed and turned his gaze away,"John doesn't want any of that."

"Oh?" Halley pursed her lips,"Mr John Watson, who never objected to cuddling with his girlfriends, who never told me no when I put my feet up on his lap or offered him a bracelet." She paused to add ruefully add,"Which, he's actually wearing."

"Halley?" Came Sherlock's questioning tone.

Halley shook her head, picking up her pace and pulling her hair up into a ponytail as she walked,"I'll walk home, thanks. Grab a taxi. John's knee is killing him."

Sherlock undoubtedly glanced back to study the doctor, having obviously missed that.

Halley set her jaw as she walked, hands pushed into her pockets as she made her way home once more. She couldn't help but think about who she considered a father and a 'tag along' at this point.


	10. Chapter 10

That evening, Halley didn't make dinner for herself. She poked at the left overs of stir fry, her appetite dissipating. If she had just kept her mouth shut, maybe Sherlock wouldn't have come to the conclusion. Why should he care anyways? He had better things to do, Halley was sure.

She sighed and set the bowl on the table, curling up into the corner of the sofa and listening to her Peaceful Piano playlist on Spotify. She stared into the emptiness of her little flat as she thought and over thought and panicked.

If there was one thing she prided herself on, it was knowing that she had one aspect of herself that Sherlock had no idea about. That no one had any idea about, really.

Paranoia was a curse added to her ADD. So when she had one thought, it grew into a tree of others, but branches snapping with her worries sent her into an all out panic sometimes. This was one of those times.

She grit her teeth, glaring at the TV as she thought, close to some big disaster in her head when the door opened. She gasped and lunged forward to snatch her fork out of the bowl, rolling onto the floor and pointing it defensively at the intruder.

"Who-...Oh. Sorry Mycroft." She smiled sheepishly at her Uncle, lowering her 'weapon'.

The politician raised an eyebrow,"Little on edge, are we Halley?"

The girl licked her lips and sat with her back up against the cushions of the couch.

"You know why I'm here, do you?" Mycroft hummed, setting aside his umbrella at the door and walking to the couch to sit down.

"Go ahead. Lecture away. I was spared previously due to Sherlock's lack of care." She sighed.

"Why might I lecture you?" Mycroft inquired curiously.

"I...walked home on my own? At night?" She filled in, confused,"Is that not why you're here?"

Mycroft stared her down,"No, but we will discuss safety concerns momentarily, I presume."

Halley winced,"Yeah, sorry. Sherlock just got on my nerves today."

"He's a master at that, no?"

She smiled softly for a brief moment,"So, why did you come then?"

"I came to discuss my brother's aforementioned lack of concern." He explained.

"Nothing to discuss. He's a royal prick to me." She muttered bitterly.

At the silence that came after that, she looked up at him shyly,"Sorry."

"Let's just keep that sort of dialect away from John's ears, yes? I'm not to certain about Sherlock, but I have a good feeling that John wouldn't hesitate to wash your mouth out." Mycroft offered a faint smile.

Halley laughed,"Oh, god, he would. He's old fashioned sometimes."

"In any case, I do believe you just got a perfect score on your English exam?" Mycroft pointed out.

"Yeah, I did. Why?" She confirmed.

"Only three others in your grade received a perfect." Mycroft continued,"Should there not be celebratory ice cream of sorts?"

"You're hilarious, Mycroft. Sherlock doesn't even bother to make sure I do my homework. Why should he care?" She quipped dryly.

"Because," Mycroft smiled at her cheekily,"He received a seventy-eight percent in his school."

Halley swallowed and looked at her lap,"It could have been a different test. Doesn't matter."

"I reviewed the questions and the dating. They are, in fact, the same the same."

Halley bit hard at her lower lip,"Then why doesn't he care?"

"Would you like him to? I assumed you would be one to enjoy your privacy..."

"I do!" She shouted, standing up to look down at him,"I love my privacy and I want to be alone sometimes, but for fucks sake, my parents forced me to be perfect before, can't he at least appreciate it?"

Mycroft tilted his head as a silent prompt for her to go on. Halley ran frustrated hands through her hair and paced. She didn't notice his glance towards the door.

"Ice skating, soccer, school, cooking, baking, _everything_ _had to be perfect_! Because if it wasn't they acted like Sherlock does now and I didn't bloody agree to this to be bullied into perfection again!" She ranted angrily.

"Halley-"

"No, no, don't you start with me. I can't stay like this, Mycroft! He's driving me crazy!" She turned to glare at him,"Do you know how many times I've tried to make those biscuits he likes? Those chocolate ones? I can't even remember! I tossed out every batch because they weren't _perfect_ and if they weren't fucking _perfect_ then he'd hate them and he'd hate me and throw me out and you'd think I was rotten and I just- I..." Halley's words became hysterical by the end.

Frustrated and upset and just tired in every sense of the word, she dropped onto the couch beside Mycroft and hid her face in his shoulder as she tried to force back her tears. She was to caught up in her own thoughts to have seen Sherlock standing in the doorway, struck dumb and frozen to the spot. She didn't catch when he left silently minutes later either.


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning Halley was feeling especially miserable, and was reluctant to go downstairs. Her attire for that day was a pair of nice fitting jeans, sandals, a tank top and a sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun and she decided she'd rather wear glasses than contacts.

John looked up at her as she walked in and smiled.

 _Forced, anxious, worried._

Halley narrowed her eyes,"What did you hear?"

John glanced in the direction of Sherlock's room before he sighed and answered,"Yelling. Mycroft came up, didn't he?"

"He's not the reason I was yelling." She huffed, walking to the kitchen before he could ask.

She made breakfast- scrambled eggs and toast for herself and fried eggs and toast with jam for John. She put what was left of the scrambled eggs she'd made onto an extra plate with toast and honey for Sherlock.

It was after she'd done this that she stared at it dejectedly for a while before mumbling a curse and walking out with a plastered- on smile and handing John his plate. They ate in comfortable silence until Halley groaned about being late and took John's plate in with hers, putting it into the sink.

When she looked at the counter, however, the plate she'd made for Sherlock was emptied, a few stray bite of crumbs and egg left but otherwise cleared. She scowled and, just for sanity's sake, checked the bin.

Papers? No food?

Halley looked up sharply at the sound of footsteps passing her. Sherlock padded out to the livingroom lazilly, not sparing her more than a glance. Halley stared at his form in confusion until..

"Sherlock?"

"Hm."

"You have...honey on your cheek?" John pointed out, amused.

Sherlock frowned and wiped his thumb over the sot John indicated before shrugging and pulling out his phone to start texting.

 _Awkward, sheepish, h...hopeful?_

Halley was dumbfounded by her deductions. She quickly excused herself and went up to grab her bag and walk to school.

Halley returned home in Mycroft's special car, reading over a letter she had received that day. It was talking about her score on the english exam.

Dear Parent or Guardian,

We are happy to inform you that your son/ daughter has achieved an exceptionally high score on the latest English or Math exam. Your child has received a ninety-five percent of higher on either of the exams. We choose the top five scores to participate in both the short story competition at the end of the semester, in which students with have the chance to publish their stories for winning. They will also be presented with a fifty dollar cash prize.

In addition to the short story competition, they are going to be the next testers for the English or Math exam for next year, due to changes in school standards. They will report to their according rooms to take the test on a date to be announced, and upon doing so will determine the next standardized test for the students to come.

We thank you for putting your child's education in our hands and assure you that testing will not effect your children's studies during the day.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Janson

Halley pursed her lips, folding up the note and tucking it into your pocket. She chatted with the driver for a while as he drove her home, and she was happy to see someone listening to her stories.

"Alright, Super star, here we are. Tell the Doctor I said hello." He smiled at her from the rearview.

Halley nodded and waved as she got out, heading up the stairs to 221B.

"Hey John, Mathew says hello." She announced, dropping her bag beside the door.

"Who?" John asked, looking up from his book.

"The driver Mycroft sends." At his look of confusion, she frowned,"How rude, Dr. Watson, I assumed you'd have at least asked his name when he drove you about."

John chuckled,"I never realized it was the same driver each time."

Halley smiled and fidgeted awkardly before pulling the note from her pocket and walking over to him.

"Uhm, so I got this today..." She started, offering it to him.

He turned stern eyes up to her,"Don't tell me this is a detention slip, Halley. I will not be happy."

Halley laughed and shook her head,"No, no. It's because of that English exam we took. My score and stuff."

"What was your score?" John asked, unfolding the note and beginning to read.

"Hundred percent." She offered shyly.

The glass shattering from the kitchen startled them both and John was up on his feet in seconds, walking to the kitchen. He almost ran right into Sherlock as the detective came out, hair sticking up in places and eyes searching.

"You got a perfect?" Were the first words out of his mouth.

"Sherlock! What did you drop in here?" John chided, wlking into the kitchen to see the damage.

Halley shifted, crossing her arms and looking at the floor,"Why should you care?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sherlock's excited tone brought her gaze back up to him,"Do you realize even Mycroft only got an eighty percent?"

"Mycroft?" She repeated bleatedly.

"Yes, Mycroft. How did you get a perfect?" He inquired.

"Because I write, Sherlock, and you would know that if you actually listened me." Halley snapped suddenly.

Sherlock's face fell and he was quiet then. John poked his head out of the kitchen in concern.

"I shouldn't have said anything. Forget it." She sighed, running a hand over her face and walking towards the door.

Sherlock was quick to cut her off, standing in front of the door.

"Sherlock, please just move. I don't want to-"

Halley gasped as Sherlock stooped low enough to catch her in a hug. She squirmed for a few minutes before she remembered something.

This was Uncle Sherlock. The same Sherlock who told her magnificent stories and held her the night of the christmas party. The same one who she wanted to see so often but was never allowed because he was a 'freak'.

"You're horrible," She mumbled into his shoulder, but the words were affectionate.

"I know. I'm sorry, I know. I a shite uncle and an even worse gaurdian."

"You ate this morning, didn't you?" She asked, pulling back out of his hold to look at him.

"Yes. I...heard what you said last night. I didn't mean to...you know-"

"God, you're rubbish at this." She laughed, relieved.

"Shut up, you brat! I'm trying." He smiled.

Halley smiled at him,"Dinner, guys? I didn't eat lunch today, I'm starving."

John grinned,"At three?"

"Yes! We shall feast tonight!" She giggled, wriggling away from Sherlock and hurrying upstairs to her flat.

Once she had left, Sherlock stood up straight, attempting to smooth his hair down a bit. John chuckled and came up behind him to press a few pieces down. Sherlock smirked and turned to look down at him.

John was inches from Sherlock's face, and the detective could count the Doctors eyelashes. They stood like that for a minute, just staring, until someone cleared their throat and knocked on the door.

"Am I interrupting, brother mine?"

Sherlock scowled and John hastily stepped away, his face ruby with shame as he mumbled a hello to Mycroft.

" _Guys!_ " Came Halley's called from her door upstairs,"Someone call Greg! He _has_ to come over!"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and shared a look with Mycroft before sighing and picking up his hone and texting Lestrade.

 **Dinner tonight. Halley requests your presence. -SH**


	12. Chapter 12

The door was open when Greg arrived, cheery, if not sarcastic voices, able to be heard a few steps from the flat. He smiled as he entered, a fantastic smell in the air.

"Greg!" Halley set down the bowl of potatoes and hurried over, hugging him.

"Hey!" He chuckled, hugging her back,"Did you make all this?"

"No, Sherlock and Mrs Hudson helped. We made chocolate biscuits." She smiled, casting a knowing glance over her shoulder at Sherlock.

"Gregory," Mycroft cut in, stepping up to him.

"Hello, Mycroft. How've you been?" Greg asked.

Mycroft hummed,"Busy. Keeping tabs on my brother is not an easy task."

"Stalker." Came Sherlock's quip from the table.

Greg grinned at him and walked over to take a seat next to Mycroft on the couch.

After everyone got what they wanted, they sat in front of the TV, though no one was really paying attention. They were all chatting except for Sherlock and, surprisingly, John. They were both unusually quiet.

 _Awkward, embarrassed, disappointed._

They did look up though, towards each other before turning their gaze to something else.

 _God they're pathetic._ Halley thought to herself, getting up to take Mrs. Hudson's plate to the sink with her own, while also bringing back the plate of cookies on a larger plate.

Halley didn't miss Sherlock's deliberate hesitation to take one, knowing he would be the last one there to seem over eager.

"Oh, go on Sherlock. You look like a kicked puppy when John and I finish these without you." Halley giggled, pushing the plate towards him.

Sherlock huffed but did take one, making Greg grin and Mrs. Hudson giggle behind her hand. John smiled as well, shifting in his seat.

They shared another look and Halley huffed as she stood up, clasping her hands together.

"I have an announcement!" She beamed, catching everyone's attention.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs Hudson prompted, smiling.

"I have made a few deductions as of late, thanks to the skills Sherlock taught me." As she looked over at Sherlock, he narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

She winked at him before continuing, seeing Sherlock rub a hand down his face,"And, after observing these two wonderful boys, I've confirmed my suspicions tonight."

Greg raised an eyebrow at her.

"Because they are to obnoxiously unobservant to see it, I have no choice but to tell everyone they're in love!" She cooed, sending devious grins to both parties.

John licked his lips, face going red, while Sherlock bounced his knee irritably, looking like he wanted to hide from the rest of the world.

"This one,"She pointed to Sherlock,"Is guilty as charged with hopeless puppy dog eyes. Every time John leaves on his dates he sulks and glares at the poor door like it stole away his precious John Watson, his adored blogger."

"Halley-" Sherlock cut in, his voice cutting as he glared daggers at her.

She held up a hand,"And you should have seen his face when John deducts. They are simplistic, easy deductions that we all know Sherlock could make on his own, but he just loves to watch John think."

Mrs Hudson smiled and clapped her hands while Greg grinned, Mycroft looking between the two men in question.

"And we have John Hamish Watson, army soldier, doctor, the fluffy jumper-wearing hedgehog." Halley began, strolling over to John's chair,"He also just loves seeing Sherlock deduce things. He is also a very big fan of Sherlock when he bends down to get a closer look."

"Halley!" John whined, covering his face.

"He sits on the couch in the mornings, hoping that one day sleepy-headed Sherlock with trudge into the room and cuddle up to his side so John can run his fingers through that unruly hair of his."

"My hair, John?" Sherlock inquired, amusement in his voice,"Really?"

"Oh, so we'll just look over your door-glaring because I like your hair?" John huffed.

"And, case in point, they argue like a married couple." Halley added mischievously.

"I'm going to strangle you," Sherlock quipped, rising from his seat.

Halley yipped,"Goodnight everyone!" And with that, she ducked down the hall to outrun Sherlock.


	13. Chapter 13

After everyone left that night, John and Sherlock returned to their flat. Halley had tired herself out cooking and running about, so she fell asleep in her bed upstairs.

"John?" Sherlock began timidly, walking to the door of the kitchen where John was making tea.

"Mhm?" John prompted quietly, busy with his hands.

"Are you...leaving?" Sherlock asked, fighting himself to keep his hands still behind his back.

John turned a confused gaze to Sherlock, settling the kettle on the stove before walking over to him,"No, Sherlock, of course not. Why would I leave?"

"I just assumed...after your usual mantra of 'not gay', I thought you would be uncomfortable after learning of my infatuation with you." Sherlock mumbled.

John smiled,"I'm staying, Sherlock," He assured him, putting his hands on his shoulders.

Sherlock swallowed nervously, looking down at John hopefully. John chuckled and leaned up to kiss Sherlock softly, and the detective eagerly kissed back, putting his arms around John as if the doctor would disappear.

The kettle's whistle was what broke them apart. Sherlock whined, tugging on John's jumper to pull him back. John smiled and ran his hands over his chest gently before pushing himself away to go get the tea.

"I'll be back in a second, Sherlock." John assured him, ducking into the kitchen.

Sherlock huffed, turning to go to the couch and sit down. Just did return moments later, two cups of tea in his hands. He offered one to Sherlock, which the detective immediately put down on the table. As John sat down on the opposite side of the couch, Sherlock shyly slid over and tucked his head into John's shoulder, putting his arm around John's waist. He heard the doctor sigh above him and felt him shift under there was a warm weight on his shoulders and John's hand were in his hair.

Sherlock mewled and leaned up into the feeling happily, making John laugh again.

"Jesus, Sherlock, I didn't realize you were so cuddly." He smiled, carding his fingers through Sherlock's hair.

"Shut up." He huffed.

"It's alright, though. You probably didn't get much of this attention as a kid, huh?"

Sherlock stayed quiet, pressing himself closer to John. After a beat, John's lips pressed a soft kiss to his temple. Watson didn't press the topic, just indulged in the quiet and the feeling of Sherlock's body beside him

They slept separately that night at John's request to go a bit slower. In the morning, However, John was happy to give Sherlock more cuddle time that morning. Sherlock seemed much, much more relaxed in Johns arms, and he was close to falling back to sleep when Halley entered with a yawn.

"D'aww," She smiled at the two,"John is officially my other dad!"

Sherlock grumbled something into John's jumper before falling silent again

John rolled his eyes and chuckled. Halley walking into the kitchen and made a half batch of pancakes, eating one before she left to grab her bag.

"Halley, Mycroft says he's riding with you to school." John called after her.

"Thanks, John!" She replied.

Why Mycroft decided to ride with her she wasn't quite sure. She simply assumed he wanted to chat with her about Sherlock and John and brushed it off as she went downstairs.


	14. Chapter 14

Halley went downstairs humming a tune she'd gotten stuck in her head the night before. She pulled open the door and was unsurprised to see Mycroft's car waiting for her. She hoped in the back seat beside her Uncle, smiling at Mathew.

"Morning, Mathew." She chirped.

The driver smiled to her in the rear view mirror,"Morning, sweetheart."

Halley beamed under the affection and turned to Mycroft as she took off her bag.

"What's up, My?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" Mycroft began, raising an eyebrow and acting bored,"Can't I-"

"Oh, hush My, I'm not stupid. What's wrong?" Halley huffed, leaning against the seat.

Mycroft frowned at her,"You're as bad as Sherlock sometimes."

"Adds to my charm," She smirked,"Now, spill."

Mycroft sighed,"You know Gregory, yes?"

"Greg. You're adding to extra syllables to his name." Halley quipped.

Her uncle narrowed his eyes,"In any case, I wanted to know-"

"If he likes you?" She finished smugly.

Mycroft scowled at her,"Yes." He replied shortly.

"Of course he does." Halley smiled, unphased,"He's got a thing for authority." She winked at him.

"There are many men with far more authority than I have, Halley. That shouldn't be your only reason for thinking he..." Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Loooooves you?" Halley giggled, shifting in her seat.

"Yes, fine." The politician huffed.

"Trust me, My, he loves you." She assured him.

"But how do you _know_?" Mycroft insisted,"He also 'loved' his ex wife. And I'm sure-"

Halley sat up in her seat,"Mycroft! He wouldn't stop looking at you over dinner! He was always nervous, pleased or anxious. Even Sherlock sees it."

Mycroft made a look of disgust,"Oh, good lord."

Halley grinned as he went on,"I don't wish to make a fool of myself by asking him to dinner."

"You won't. But you had better ask him, My!" Halley huffed, picking up her bag again as the car stopped.

She waved to Mathew as she got out, shutting the door and walking up to the sidewalk.

Halley took a breath and paused her steps as they drove away. She had plenty of her own problems to deal with at school. And one of them was _gorgeous_.

Halley fidgeted where she stood, watching Mabelle as the girl stepped out of her own car. The girl had short cut, blond hair with layers and tints of red dye. Her eyes were a light blue-gray shade, with long eyelashes and thin lips

Halley felt herself swept with a wave of dread because Mabelle was way out of her league. And, with her luck, straight.

Falling for her was dumb in the first place because there was no way it could happen. They hadn't even spoken much other than in science as partners on a project. Halley sighed and adjusted her bag on her shoulder and watched as her own little goddess walked towards the crowd.

What she did not expect, though, was the two boys quickly catching up to Mabelle, one grabbing her shoulder with a devilish grin. Her pretty smile fell


	15. Chapter 15

Halley observed silently as the two boys-

 _Cocky, Smug._

led Mabelle away from the main side walk, shoving her forward with a hand on her back. Mabelle-

 _Scared, Nervous, Upset._

stumbled once and dropped her calculator, pausing to try and pick it up, only to be yanked forward by her waist.

She looked back over her shoulder worriedly, and by some miracle, caught Halley's eye as the Holmes girl stared on.

The look Mabelle sent her yanked her roughly back to reality and she was moving then, eyes cold and steely as she slipped past people walking to the school, stopping to pick up Mabelle's calculator before creeping up to the trio. Mabelle turned her head hastily to face front.

Halley swallowed hard, shaky hands preventing her from putting the calculator into her pocket. Damn adrenaline. She heard the faint sound of Mabelle's voice after a second and ducked behind a tree, peeking around it.

"...got. You like girls, dontcha? You must be pretty good with your mouth then, fag." One of the boys sneered, stepping towards her.

"Can we not? I'm not really-" She started to protest, shuffling back.

"Shut it," The other grunted, pulling her forward roughly and pressing the girl flush against himself.

Mabelle gasped and struggled, pushing against his chest until she reeled back and elbowed him in the jaw. He let go with a growl before pulling back his own hand and smacking her square across the face.

Mabelle fell to the grass in shock, holding her cheek. Her usually happy eyes blurred with tears.

Halley snarled and, adrenaline be damned, chucked the calculator. It cracked against the bigger one's head satisfyingly.

"Back off of her, you pigs!" She snapped, stepping out from behind the tree as they turned around.

The big one was going for her immediately, lunging straight for her. Halley stepped out of the way and ducked as he tried to recover with a punch. Now, as he stood, Halley realized she probably should had taken those lessons that John offered her for fighting.

He pounced again, tackling her. Halley felt a sickening pop in her ankle. The other way moved towards them and Halley, panicked, brought up her knee as hard as she could, successfully landing a blow to his balls. The guy paled and began toppling to the side, holding his crotch and looking like he was going to be sick.

Halley swung blindly at the other boy, who she had forgotten about until he lifted her by the waist. Seconds later she hit the ground with a thud, knocking the wind out of her.

"You little whore," He growled, dropping down to pin her to the grass, lifting her head by grabbing her collar and punching her in the face.

Halley lifted her hands to block any other hits and he responded by kneeing her in the side. Once again Halley couldn't breath.

She risked a look up as he drew back his fist for another blow when Mabelle raised her book bag high over her head and swung it down against her attacker's skull. His head jerked and he went limp, collapsing to the right of Halley, his leg still draped over her own.

Halley groaned in pain, trying to roll out from underneath him. Mabelle was by her side in an instant, pushing him off of her and kneeling next to Halley.

"Oh my god," Mabelle gasped, looking her over.

The girls cheek had already begun to swell. Her eyes were worried and afraid, filled with unshed tears. Her hands shook as she helped Halley to sit up.

"You shouldn't have come- oh god I'm sorry." Mabelle fussed.

"My phone," Halley huffed once she could breath, hands patting her pockets. She'd lost it in the scuffle.

She had planned to call Mycroft, of course, because Mycroft knew exactly what to do and where to go. But it seemed she didn't need to because there were sirens growing louder from down the street and a familiar black car pulled up to the side walk, a similar one arriving with the police.

With the first car Mycroft stepped out, his strides quick, and with the second Sherlock and John barely waited for the car to stop before barreling over.

"How did they-?" Mabelle asked, her voice shaking.

"My uncle spies on me. He's a government guy." Halley offered sheepishly.

"Halley, Jesus Christ,"John's voice,"I swear-"

"John, just get Mabelle to an ambulance. I wouldn't mind a visit either." Halley said wryly.

The next voice she heard was Lestrade's,"What the- the call was for _you_?"

Mabelle was helping her stand when she remembered how tall

Mabelle was compared to her. She came up just past the girl's shoulder.

Lestrade ran a hand over his face and Halley yelped as she stepped forward, her ankle shooting pain up her leg.

Mabelle frowned and leaned down, putting one arm behind her back and another behind her knees. In the next moment, Halley couldn't feel the ground anymore. In a panic, she put her arms around Mabelle's neck. Halley blushed furiously.

"Mabelle, you don't have to-"

"It's fine. You've done enough, just relax." Even after the events of that morning, Mabelle still spoke slowly and tried to reassure her.

Sherlock stared at the two, deducing, before stalking off to complain to Mycroft.

"Are you two...dating then?" John asked dumbly.

Halley shook her head quickly,"No!"

Mabelle smiled,"No sir. Where am I going?"

John shook his head as if to clear it,"Yeah, right, wrong time. The car over there. I can take her if you like?"

Mabelle walked past him to the indicated car,"I've got it. She's light."

Halley shut her eyes and tried to pretend this wasn't happening until the cool texture of Mycroft's car seat hit her arms. When she looked up, Mabelle's cheek looked even worse and she was trying to blink back tears and keep quiet.

"Your face," Halley frowned, grabbing her wrist to stop her from moving away from the car.

"You should see yours, hun." Mabelle smiled sympathetically.

"Get in," Halley told her, wincing as she slid over on the seat.

Mabelle hesitated, but got in beside her.

"Who were they?" Halley asked after a moment of silence.

Mabelle shifted uncomfortably,"They love teasing me because I'm gay."

"My parents are gay." Halley commented,"John was the one who offered to carry me."

"Really? That's sweet." Mabelle smiled softly.

Halley nodded, looking at her feet as if she was trying to watch her ankle as it swelled up,"I wasn't actually sure if you were gay or not to be honest."

"Were you hoping?" Mabelle asked teasingly.

Halley blushed,"No!"

Mabelle giggled quietly and someone opened the door on Halley's side. They looked over to see Lestrade poke his head in.

"You alright?" He asked quietly, crouching in front of the door.

"Could be better," Halley shrugged.

Lestrade frowned at the sight of her eye, reaching forward to turn her head to the side and get a better look.

"Jeez, kid. I'll get Sherlock rounded up and find John so you two can get something for the pain."

Halley nodded and opened her arms for a hug, which he gladly complied with. He shut the door and Halley turned back to Mabelle.

"Is Sherlock your other dad?" She asked,"I like his name."

Halley smiled, nodding,"Yeah. I have a feeling you'll like him once you get past a few of his quirks."

They made small talk and spoke about their families and the test in school for a little while before the door opened again and Halley moved over to let John in.

"Where's Sherlock?" Halley asked, leaning forward to try and look out the window.

"He's meeting us at the clinic, I suppose. He's too busy bullying Lestrade into letting him 'talk' with those boys." John sighed, sitting on the seat opposite them.

"Does your dad know the Inspector?" Mabelle asked, confused.

"Yes." John answered,"He likes puzzles and Greg give them to him."

"He solves crimes and stuff." Halley shrugged. Leaning over to prod at her ankle

"Huh." Mabelle hummed, looking out the window as they drove.


End file.
